The Lane

I saw you again
in the snow lined lane,
hedges thick with frost on ice,
bending boughs
cracking in the thin air.

I remember a time
when we were not
yet strangers.
We laughed at the same jokes,
and looked at each other
for signs of encouragement.

The awkward hug you gave me
did not convey
what you intended,
or what I wanted,
but it was the first time
we had touched for years.

Then there was that
fragile faltering farewell,
thick with
wanting to be spoken words,
that fell silently to the ground.

I found myself
waiting for something more,
wanting something more
from you,
than this unsatisfactory brief exchange.

We used to be so close
as souls that see
each other through
a sea of others.

I've walked the same lane since,
hoping a second sighting
would stir a different response.

But now Spring
has long since gone,
it seems you have retreated
to your so different world,
leaving me alone in mine.